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"Stay out of trouble."

I'd heard those words a lot, especially from her. This would be the third school, she reminded me. This was my last chance.

Lavender Preparatory High School was known as a school for delinquents, a private school of strict teachers, tight schedules, and no room for disobedience. Students who went there came out of it as upstanding members of society, or so the brochure would tell you.

The truth of it, as I found out pretty quickly, was that money talks at LP High. A bribe here, a donation there, and any little incident some trust fund baby caused would be swept under the rug. I learned pretty quickly to keep my head low.

That didn't stop anyone. They grabbed me right by the school gate. I was slammed against the wall in the alley on the school's west side and beaten. They didn't care that I had no money. No matter what I said, they'd hit me. I suffered blow after blow until they left me lying on the ground coughing up blood.

"Stay out of trouble."

She didn't ask where my injuries came from. She didn't ask how classes went. All I got was a lecture and some other nasty words. I went to bed without eating.

I learned to avoid anyone I could at that school. I ate lunch in a bathroom stall, used my ghostly body to phase through walls and avoid walking through any hallways, and I left school immediately as soon as the bell rang.

I wasn't safe for long. About a week later, I got caught phasing between classrooms. "You have to walk in the halls," barked one of the teachers. "Phasing is against the rules."

I nodded and did as I was told. Later that day, I got grabbed by the same prick from before. He and his goons beat the shit out of me and threw my backpack into the river. I didn't bother to grab it.

"Stay out of trouble."

Another lecture. I spent the night in my room alone, staring at the ceiling. I didn't go to school the next day.

She was out all day, so she didn't notice I was home. I spent the entire time in my room. I didn't play games or read anything. I just sat there. Time bled together in those hours, and before I knew it, she was home.

"I got a call from your school."

I didn't argue. I had no real excuse. She didn't even ask for one, just yelled the way she always did. When she finally let me go, she asked me what I was going to do.

"Stay out of trouble."

I got detention for skipping class. They stuck me in a classroom with a bunch of others and forced me to write about what I had done wrong. When I asked for a pen, I got lectured again. All of mine were in the river.

Once I got out, I went home immediately. She didn't say a word. I spent the whole night in my room, my stomach grumbling from skipping dinner.

Two more years, that was how long it would be until I graduated. And even then, I had no idea what I'd even do once I had my degree. I had no goals, nothing I was really passionate about. The prick who used me as a punching bag wanted to be a Battler. Could I Battle?

I smirked to myself when I realized just how pathetic I was. What else would I do after graduating? There was only one thing I knew how to do. I laughed dryly as the words escaped my lips.

"Stay out of trouble."

The days went by slowly. I did the same thing every day. I went to school, I got beat up for loose cash, and I went home to get another lecture. Nothing changed, and nothing was going to change. That's what I decided.

That is, until I was no longer the new kid. A transfer student showed up towards the end of the semester. I overheard some students saying his family had to move because his father got a new job nearby. Another trust fund kid to do what he wanted, exactly what LP High needed more of.

I went home as normal that day, but I avoided the usual beating from the usual crowd. No one approached me at the gate. No one even stopped me on the road leading home.

The next day, I stayed a little longer in the school building. I don't know what compelled me to do so. Maybe I missed the beatings? Hah. But whatever it was, something bothered me.

I found them in the south hall of the liberal arts wing. This side of the building was out of the way, far from the school entrance or the gym where Battlers went to practice. It was almost always empty after school. The bastard had the new kid in his grasp.

I caught him just as he pinned the Galarian Slowbro to the wall. "Gimme all the money you got," he ordered. The Slowbro was panicking, begging the prick to leave him alone. He looked like he was about to cry.

This wasn't the first time I had seen someone else get beaten. This guy was ruthless, picking on every kid that wouldn't fight back, me included. I always ignored them. Never once did I even dare to step in and try to stop him. Even if I considered it for just a second, those damned words rang loudly in my ears.

"Stay out of trouble."

But something was different this time. Maybe it was because I knew what it was like to be trapped here. Maybe it was because he looked so pathetic, tears welling up in his eyes as he begged to be left alone. Whatever it was, it drove me to action.

My feet moved before I even thought about it. I grabbed the asshole and brought him to the floor. My fists flew at his face, hitting him over and over as I straddled his chest. His goons started to yell as they tried to pull me off him. I phased through their grasps and continued to whale on him. It wasn't long before a teacher showed up.

"They just jumped him!" one of the thugs lied. Slowbro tried to argue, but I just stayed silent. The teacher dragged us both to detention.

Slowbro was in hysterics the entire walk, pleading and begging not to get detention. By the time he was sat down at a desk in the detention classroom, he simply buried his face in his arms.

"Sorry I got you into this," he muttered, his voice muffled through his forearms.

"It's fine," I said. I tried to rest my cheek against my knuckles, but I recoiled as blood got on my face. It must've been the other guy's.

"My mom's gonna kill me," Slowbro whined. I sighed.

"Same."

"I've never gotten detention before," Slowbro admitted. "Mom's probably going to ground me."

I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was shaking, tears welling up out of the corners of his eyes. "Look," I said, "this was just one time. She can't be too mad at you."

"You think so?" Slowbro asked, wiping the tears from his eyes. I nodded.

"You're not a troublemaker like me," I assured, "so you'll probably get off easy."

"Troublemaker?" Slowbro repeated. "You don't really seem like one."

"You think so?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and putting my hands behind my head.

"Yeah," Slowbro nodded. "You did save me after all. Are you a Battler? You were super strong back there!"

"Nah," I said, smirking. "No one wants a guy like me on their team."

"Well," Slowbro began, twiddling his thumbs as he searched for the right words, "I wouldn't mind having you on my team."

"You're a Battler?"

"I want to be," Slowbro said with a grin. "I wanna go to Indigo University and Battle there. I was on the Battle team for my old high school, but I haven't tried out for the team here yet. You wanna try out together?"

"Maybe," I mused, thinking it over. I glanced at Slowbro, seeing his soft, friendly smile as he waited for my answer. "They might not want me, cuz of my record and all."

"Record?"

"This is the third school I've been to in less than a year," I explained, averting my eyes. "Today wasn't the first time I knocked some bully's teeth in."

"You can at least try!"

My eyes widened. Slowbro looked at me with a pleading expression in his eyes. I looked down at my desk, thinking it over. A smirk spread across my face.

"Why not? Maybe it'll keep me out of trouble."